Two Good Legs
by Bishie Huntress
Summary: Bad dreams haunt Ed, and his friends try to help.


**AN: Please read this through to the finish. It really does make sense. :) And review, dang it! XD**

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Ed screamed, shouted, wailed. Al shook him awake. "Ed, Ed! Wake up, already!"

Ed's eyes shot open, and he lay in his tangled, sweat-soaked sheets, gasping for air. His chest rose and fell with each intake and exhale of air; his heartbeat pounded through his veins, surging and crashing through his head. Sunlight shone, bright and thin the way it does in early spring, with its promises of life, and Ed shut his eyes to block it out, throwing his arm over his face and clenching his teeth tightly together. It did no good, and a sob broke free on his next breath.

Ed curled onto his side, sobs and hiccups rocking his body as Al patted his arm soothingly and rubbed warm hands up and down his back. "It's okay," he said over and over, quietly. "It's okay, Ed. I've got you." The tears finally abated, and all of a sudden, Ed felt sick. He rolled off his bed, away from his brother's comforting hands, and rushed into the bathroom, heaving into the porcelain bowl of the toilet.

When he finally pulled his head back up, brushing his mangled braid out of his face, Al was waiting in the doorway. His brother walked over to the sink and pulled a clean cloth from under the sink, wetting it with cool water, and handed it to Ed. Ed took it gratefully, wiping the sweat and bile from his face. Al flushed the toilet and lowered the lid, urging Ed to sit and Ed did so, only just realizing he was trembling so hard he could barely stand.

"Was it Mom?" Al asked, sorrow and sympathy bright in his grey eyes. Ed shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut as if he could block out the memories of his dream. "Do you want to talk about it?" Al tried again, but again, Ed shook his head.

"Well, alright. If you're sure?" Ed could hear the note of disappointment in his brother's voice, the hope that Ed would open up to him left unfulfilled once again, but he just nodded.

"Okay." With that one word, Ed loved his brother twice as much as he thought possible. "You'd better hurry, then, if you want to make it to your meeting with Colonel Mustang on time," Al added. Ed groaned and Al patted his shoulder in sympathy. "Want to call in sick?"

Ed shook his head. "No," he said, his voice raspy and grating in the gravel his throat had become. He cleared his throat carefully and tried again. "No, this is important. It's about security for the meeting with the ambassadors from Creta. If I miss this, Mustang'll have my head." His own words made Ed wince, but thankfully, Al had looked away and missed it.

Al paused at the door. "You want breakfast?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

"Just toast." Al nodded and turned once more to leave. "And, Al? Thanks."

Al just smiled at Ed and shut the door quietly behind himself.

Ed hurried with his shower, only barely managing to make himself presentable and snatch his toast from Al's waiting hands as he rushed out the door with moments to spare. A black car waited on the street, and Ed stopped short as he saw Havoc chewing on a cigarette while he leaned against the hood.

"Boss thought someone oughtta pick you up, just to make sure," Havoc said easily, reaching over and getting the door for Ed.

"Huh. Thanks," Ed said, sliding inside. The door shut behind him, and the other door opened to allow Havoc to slide behind the wheel.

They pulled out onto the road and Havoc moved the car through the morning traffic with practiced ease. "Say, Boss…"

Ed grunted to show he was listening.

"You okay?" Havoc asked. "You don't look too well this morning. I'm sure Colonel Mustang will understand if you need to see a doctor."

Ed shuddered at the thought. "I'm fine," he said, trying to clear the roughness from his voice. "Just had a difficult morning."

Havoc nodded thoughtfully. "Right. Well, if you need to talk, ahhm… Well, you know you can always talk to me, right?" he said awkwardly.

Ed's lips twisted in a melancholy smile. "I know, Havoc. Thanks."

"Sure. Now, let's get you to that meeting on time. The sooner you get there, the sooner it'll be over."

"That's what they say," Ed said doubtfully. Havoc just chuckled.

Ed arrived with a good ten minutes to get to the office. He stepped out of the car and straightened his uniform while Havoc drove off to park the car. "Three years, and I'm still not used to this blasted thing," he grumbled to himself, walking up the stairs to Central Command.

"Sir?" asked one of the guards at the door.

"Ahh, nothing." Ed walked into the building, feeling a bit sheepish for being caught talking to himself. He walked down bright, clean corridors until he reached a familiar wooden door. So many memories looked back at him from the dark paneling, and for a moment, Ed wasn't sure he could bring himself to reach out and touch it.

Someone bumped into him from behind, pushing him right against the door. "Oh, sorry!" said a private. He must have been new, because he finished his apology with the words, "I didn't see you there."

"Who do you think you're calling a tiny speck of dust in this dust-forsaken hallway?" Ed raged. "Somebody hold me back, or I swear I'll—" Hands reached out from behind and pulled the alchemist through the doorway. Apologies and warnings were thrown out into the hall in a jumbled mess of words before the door was slammed.

"Edward, you really need to learn to control your imagination. That poor private said no such thing."

"Al!" Ed said, surprised. "How did you manage to get here before me? Again."

Al grinned mysteriously. "It's a secret," he said, winking.

Ed pouted. "A secret you can't even share with your favorite older brother?" he said.

"Since you're my only older brother, I don't think it counts," Al said, turning away. He grabbed a mug from the nearest desk. "Coffee?"

Ed grabbed the cup and breathed the fragrant aroma it gave off with a sigh of satisfaction. "How did you know?" he asked in wonder.

"Actually, Lieutenant Fuery was the one to bring coffee for everyone," Al said, and Ed nodded his thanks, too busy breathing in the smell of the dark liquid to say anything.

"Is everyone here?" Colonel Mustang asked, stepping from the inner office. "Good. Let's begin. Major Falman?"

Falman began going over the procedures they would have to follow when the ambassador from Creta arrived later that month. Everything had to be perfect, of course. The colonel had them practicing the correct ways to bow and grovel for every possible situation until Ed thought he might pass out from the sheer stupidity of it all.

"Why do we have to go through all this?" he complained. "Can't we just say hello, shake a few hands, and sign the stupid treaty?"

"It isn't so simple," Breda said. "The new ambassador is known to be pretty easygoing, but even the slightest imagined offence could start the whole process over again. We've actually been on the verge of signing a treaty and trade agreement with Creta for the past two years, but something always goes awry."

"We're gonna be so busy scraping our noses against the floor that we won't see any threats coming," Ed griped.

Havoc swallowed a snort of laughter when the colonel glared at him.

"Would you prefer to be reassigned, Major?"

Ed glared. "Of course not! I'm just saying that it might be beneficial to have some guys backstage, y'know."

Colonel Mustang nodded. "You are right, of course. That job will fall to yourself, First Lieutenant Havoc, and Alphonse. However, you never know when you will find yourself in a position that requires… 'scraping your nose against the floor'."

Even Breda and Fuery couldn't hold back their laughter. Ed just glared at his mug of coffee.

"Is there something wrong with your coffee, Ed?" Fuery asked, noticing his untouched drink.

Ed grunted. "No," he said. "I don't actually drink coffee. I just like the smell."

"Really, Fuery, how did you not know this after ten plus years?" Havoc asked, slapping the shorter man on the shoulder. "After all, they say coffee stunts your growth."

Ed growled and stood suddenly. "I need a break," he said shortly, shoving his chair out of the way and striding from the room.

"Sorry," Al said, apologizing for his brother's rudeness. "I'll go talk to him."

"That's okay," Colonel Mustang said with a hand on his shoulder. "I need to have a word with Edward, anyway."

Ed paced around the outer office restlessly. He knew he shouldn't have just walked out of the meeting like that, but this really hadn't been a spectacular morning, and he just needed five minutes of people-free quiet.

Of course, perhaps that was too much to ask for, he thought with a sigh as Colonel Mustang joined him, leaning against the edge of Breda's desk.

"There is something you need to get off your chest, Edward," the colonel said quietly.

Ed shook his head stubbornly. "I have nothing to say."

Colonel Mustang just gave him that look that seemed to strip away all the layers he bundled himself in to protect himself from the world, and Ed dropped into a chair. "I really don't wanna talk about it," he grumbled.

"Is this about… that night?" the colonel asked gently.

Ed looked up into warm, brown eyes, then quickly away, feeling the familiar surge of guilt threaten to overwhelm him. "I should've—"

"Stop right there, Edward Elric," the colonel said firmly. "There are no 'should haves' or 'could haves' in war. You did what you could, which is more than anyone even thought possible. It's been years. I know it's hard" – the colonel's breath hitched – "but it's time to let it go."

"I don't know if I can," Ed said honestly, miserably. "I—" He hesitated. "I dreamt about it this morning."

The colonel nodded in understanding. "I do, too, sometimes."

"I dream about it every damn night," Ed said fiercely, looking up. "The images, the look on his face… I just can't get it out of my head!" He buried his fingers in strands of golden hair, clutching at his head. "I don't know what to do. It was never this bad with Mom!"

Much to his embarrassment, Ed began to cry again. He bent over, curling in on himself, trying to hide his shame. Colonel Mustang knelt next to him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I had no idea it was this bad. We've all been healing, and you've been dealing with this pain all alone." Ed said nothing, just sobbed wordlessly into her shoulder.

When Ed quieted some, Riza spoke again. "Ed… Roy would not want to see you so broken up about this."

Ed snorted wetly. "Yeah, he'd probably make a dozen jokes about my height, then proceed to order me to see a shrink."

"Perhaps," Riza said mildly. "I like to think he'd appreciate the sentiment, though. He always did have a soft spot for you boys."

Ed pulled away, swiping at his face with a blue sleeve. "Sure had a funny way of showing it," he mumbled, looking at the floor between them.

"Ed…" When Ed didn't look up, the colonel tucked a hand under his chin and tugged his face up to look at her. "Edward, Roy may be gone, but he is not forgotten. He lives on in each of us." She placed a hand over her breastbone and her fingers clenched just a little.

For the barest moment, Ed could see the heartbreak and pain that bled into her eyes, and he wanted to scold himself for his selfishness. Of all people to break down in front of, the man's widow was probably the worst choice. They had only been married thirty-two days when Roy Mustang was assassinated. Having waited so long for her dream to be fulfilled, Ed could only imagine what Riza's pain must be like.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to…" He ran out of words and stopped, but Riza understood.

"Don't be, Ed." Colonel Mustang paused, searching for the right words. She took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself for something, and stood, straightening the blue military jacket. "Edward," she said, and there was a note of sternness that Ed had not heard directed toward himself in a long time, "are you going to sit and mope about all day?"

Ed gaped. This was such a drastic turnaround from mere moments ago. What was Riza Mustang getting at?

"If you don't straighten up, you'll end up a hunchback gnome even shorter than you are, now."

"Who're you calling a microscopic garden gnome? You're so old, I'm surprised you aren't all dried out like a raisin!" Ed yelled reflexively. He stopped suddenly and slapped both hands over his mouth, staring at Riza with wide eyes, but her honey gaze watched him fondly.

"Perhaps a little remembrance isn't such a bad thing once in a while," Colonel Mustang said lightly, "provided it's the right kind of memory."

Ed dropped his hands and nodded. It was weird: he didn't really feel much better about his morning, but somehow the weight on his shoulders didn't seem quite so great anymore. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Colonel Riza Mustang just smiled and turned away. "Come, Major. We have a meeting to finish."

Ed smiled and stood to follow. "Right," he said. He took a step forward. He had two good legs, and he intended to use them.


End file.
